Dance with the Devil
by Wanda Ginny Greenleaf
Summary: They had taken everything from her, driving her into insanity. Now she was back for revenge. T for blood and general creepiness...


**Dance with the Devil**

**Me: Hello everyone and welcome to a prologue for another megaman story I have in mind. This one will be pretty creepy...it's just because of the way I wrote my main character. She's...erm...a little off her rocker. (is standing with her back to a closet door)**

**Aerith: LET ME OUT YOU STUPID HUMAN! LET ME OUT THIS INSTANT AND I MAY RECONSIDER RE-ARRANGING YOUR ORGANS!**

**Me: ...Well, that makes me feel all warm inside. -_- (barricades the door) I do not own Megaman ZX. If I had, there would be a **** sequel out by now!**

**Prologue**

Fear. The scent of it hung heavy in the air. The girl straightened up, spitting out a mouthful of blood. The life liquid of mavericks had always been pretty bland. She didn't enjoy it as much as she enjoyed the blood of the higher-ups. It was always more satisfying...

A cruel smile twisted onto her once tender face as she looked down at her bloodied hands. She remembered the men laughing as they destroyed the people of the world, all for their own benefit. The lowlifes. The terror in their expressions when she had turned on them was absolutely delicious. Her bloodlust raged with perverse joy at the memory.

They had been so sure of themselves. They had laughed, made fun of her pain, enjoyed her suffering and that of too many others.

The girl threw back her head and laughed, a loud, high-pitched, insane laugh. Well? Who's laughing now? Who the **** is laughing now?

She watched them writhe in agony under her heel. She allowed them to beg, for mercy, for _forgiveness_, just before she tormented them and put them out of their misery. They would fear her, _yes_, it was _their _turn to feel fear. It was _their _turn to flee from every shadow, to cower under a chair while _she _loomed over them. _They _would learn to fear _her. Their ultimate creation. _

It was vile, to think that they had the nerve to try to make _her _one if their mindless soldiers, after they had _murdered _her family in their little riots, trying to feed their _precious _model W. They made the mistake of walking all over her. They ticked her off, they rained on her innocent parade, they drove her over the edge, and it's their own stupid fault. They should have expected it. Three Wise Men, indeed! Not even able to predict a 'simple' teenaged 'weakling' human.

It didn't matter. _She _had gotten the last laugh. _She _had the joy of breaking their bones, spilling their blood, and listening to them scream, begging her to stop.

Why should she? Did they stop for her mother? Did they stop for her little sister? Why should she stop for them? Oh no, no no no. They would feel it, the pain _they _had caused to other people. As they fell, screaming into oblivion, they would realize where they screwed up. But it was too late, far too late. She would laugh and laugh as they went on the slow ride to hell. Her family would be avenged, yes indeed. Their own fear tactics would turn on them and crush their spirits and their bodies under her fist.

The taste of sweet vengeance made her mouth water. She raised her head, de-fusing from her artificial biometal, Model V.

Yeah, you heard that right. V for Vile. There sure are a lot of stupid smart people in this world...

She stepped delicately through the mass of dead maverick bodies. No one would suspect her. She was just another innocent raid victim. Another person who's life had been ruined by a bunch of selfish freaks. And it was true.

But she was taking revenge. Yes, she was. They had ruined her happiness for the very last time.

She had walked into a destroyed cafe shop and turned on the tap. She proceeded to wash the blood off her hands. If she stank of blood, people might get suspicious. And she didn't want to give Legion the wrong idea.

It wasn't their fault they were ruled by maniacs. They weren't to blame. Idiots, probably. But not to blame. No, that much was true. Or she'd be little different from those paranoid freaks who turned on their own minions over failure. Killing the people who worked for them.. Her lips twisted back into a scowl. She would rather die than be like them.

None of them would be spared. Not Prometheus, not Pandora, not Albert. They would all feel her wrath. The girl smiled hard. Yes, they would be her greatest prize. When she was done with them, no one would dare attempt what they were again. And before she ended their miserable existence, they would know.

This is what happens when you abandon Aerith Adilane. This is what happens when you push her too far. This is what happens when you are _enough of an idiot _to give her this kind of power.

Aerith continued to walk through the wasted town, the moon shinning high and bright, illuminating her prey and her path. A loud noise caught her attention. She turned to the right to see one of the New Guardians standing at the other end of the pathway. It was the weakest link, Thetis.

"_**What a surprise,**_" she thought coldly. Her traumatic experience had robbed her of her voice, so now she had to rely on Model V to project her thoughts._**"Is Albert suddenly realizing that I'm more than a little "defective?' Is that why he's sending out bigger lackies than the last time 'round?"**_

Thetis bit his lip before replying. He didn't like her expression. He had seen death, caused death, it shouldn't bother him. But...

It was a look of pure emotionlessness. She didn't care about anything anymore. Thousands of enemies had just died by her hands, and she didn't care. There was blood on her hands and it didn't matter at all. Her sanity was clearly in a wrecked state.

It happened so quickly. Thetis felt a harsh blow to the back of his head, and then he saw nothing.

Aerith slowed to a stop, transformed once again. The moon illuminated her monstrous transformation for the sleeping world to see. The claws, the fangs, the shoulder cannon, and those wolfish red eyes. She grabbed a red pen, scribbled something on a sticky note, and put it on his unconscious body. Then she left.

It read, _YOU'RE NEXT._

**End Chapter**

**Okay...one too many screws loose up there...I've set this story in post ZX but pre ZX Advent for certain reasons. I hope everyone enjoyed the prologue. The actual story will be called Wrath of Model V. It was inspired by Breaking Benjamin's song Dance with the Devil.**

**Please Review on your way out!**


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